Strawberry Blonde
by WEEBFANGIRLINVADERZIMRANDOMXD
Summary: A death shatters the Host Club. Everyone is petrified. They have no one any more. With everyone brokenhearted, will they ever manage to mend and move on with their lives some day? Or will they wallow in their misery forever? KaoHaru -Warning, very angsty-
1. Chapter 1

_"My life closed twice before it's close,  
It yet remains to see,  
If Immortality unveil,  
A third event to me _

_So huge, so hopeless to conceive  
As these twice befell.  
Parting is all we know of Heaven,  
And all we need of Hell."  
-Emily Dickinson_

Haruhi Fujioka groaned to herself, her head resting gingerly on the toilet seat, her limbs splayed out awkwardly around it. Up to this point, she had been completely oblivious to the synthetic concept of passing time, and it was now that she bothered to turn to look at the old, now poorly illuminated old red digital clock that sat on her bathroom counter, scarcely having the energy to do so.

4:21 AM.

Of course, she had had to squint in order to see the small dot that marked AM or PM.

She had a very vague, surreal memory of running to the bathroom in the morning, only able to turn one of the lights on, (Just her luck) in her frenzy of her scuttle to the bathroom, the bile rising in the back of her throat while her stomach felt weighed down.

It had maybe been… Eleven or twelve o' clock was as close as she would ever be to the factual time.

She remembered a flurried pandemonium in which she had proceeded with several dry heaves, which was followed by what could have been anywhere between five minutes or up until now.

She was irresolute as to whether or not she had fallen asleep, perhaps she had closed her eyes for a minute.

Yes, perhaps that was it.

Haruhi carefully, grasping the corner of the counter with one hand and pushing down on the toilet seat with the other, shoved herself upward.

It was as though gravity was attempting to drag her back down to the floor, through the center of the earth, through the mess of magma and partially hardened iron and rock to the center of the earth, where she would be liquefied and burned into a scrumptious Fujioka Soup.

She bent over the sink, face to face with the porcelain and tin.

The horrible stench that came from her vomit was horrible, thickening the air with the stench of stomach acid and half-digested sushi, much like dry ice having water poured on it, spilling under the doorway licking it's sordid tentacles and stretching them around every possible object it came in contact with.

The room felt thick and muggy.

Haruhi, still in a daze, turned on the sink, off-balance and, although no longer nauseated, dizzy. She splashed the gelid water on her face, after hesitating for an instant, then she concluded that it was unnecessary for her to worry about the temperature.

Unperturbed about getting water in her bangs, especially considering they were already damp and plastered, stationary, to her forehead, she scurried for a towel that she had perhaps used to wash her face a couple days ago, being the disorganized person that she was, wiped her face and seized her glasses, rarely used evermore due to Tamaki's constant insistence.

She turned her face upward to the mirror, staring at her befuddled expression. She moaned and flipped on the fan, the reek of the bathroom sickening her.

Clad in a pair of ripped up, old SOFFE shorts and a huge white t-shirt that belonged to her father long ago, she noticed she had been sweating significantly and her shirt was wet with it.

Uncaring, considering her bathroom was connected to her room, she slid off her shirt and walked into her room, probing quietly through her drawers in the darkness, before she slid on another shirt with a relieved sigh. She slid off her glasses and set them down on the sink, and, completely exhausted, flopped down on her bed, climbing up the comforter and curling up beneath it.

Haruhi rarely threw up, the only times she recalled it were when something bad was going on somewhere else, such as the time Tamaki and her had been arguing over something so trivial as her fighting off some perverts.

Although, she had to admit, he had been right. She had nearly drowned that day, and, in all respects, she did owe it to her current boyfriend for doing such a thing. She had been irrational, no doubt about that.

But nevertheless, she had been disgruntled and, after having so many wonderful crab legs, the sweet and salty meat from them popping forth from the fresh shells, she had just gone and vomited.

And it was, of course, due to her being under stress.

It was kind of an intuitive sense she had always had.

Haruhi was too drained of energy to open her eyes, much less, shrug.

So within that odd limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness, she mentally shrugged.

Haruhi was rather unpleasantly aroused from her slumber when her phone began vibrating and blaring out a standard, default ringtone.

She slowly, after being dragged from the darkness and the recesses of her mind, mustered up the pittance of energy she had claimed in the midst of her slumber to reach over, not bothering to open her eyes, and flipped the phone open, half groaning, half screeching, "TAMAKI, YOU IDIOT!"

Before briefly snapping it shut, her uproar had been met with egotistical fiddle faddle and whatnot of what was genuine concern, with a dash of Tamaki's obnoxious, loud personality shaken in and served up.

Of course, however, her efforts were in vain, as her cellphone, borrowed from the Hitachiin twins, of course, began ringing once again.

Haruhi, deciding it was no good, rolled over in her cocoon of down comforters and fleece throws and picked it up.

"Yes, Tamaki?""Haruhi! I was so worried, I thought you were angry with me. Oh, princess, it was terrible, I felt such a sense of pain and grief for disturbing such a beautiful young woman who is to be admired in her-"

"Just… Stop." Haruhi interjected, knowing full well that he would go on forever if she didn't cut him off. She wasn't truly as aggravated as she constantly sounded, she just found that he shut his mouth faster this way.

Her approach was met with an awkward moment of silence. "I'll be there soon." She sighed.

"It's odd," Tamaki said quickly, and Haruhi could recognize now that his voice was dampened down with genuine worry. "Kaoru and Hikaru have yet to show up as well." Haruhi could easily picture him shrugging. "Oh well. I'll see you soon, my love." He said radically. Haruhi sighed. She rather disliked being treated like a guest at the host club oftentimes, but she supposed it couldn't be helped.

Haruhi took a deep breath and, gently stepped out from underneath her warm blankets to the seemingly glaciating carpet and air. She shivered, suddenly wishing she'd worn longer pajama bottoms as she stood up, trying to regain her balance and slowly achieving her goal. She walked out, rubbing the sleep from her eyes to meet her father, blithely ironing her blazer and tie, humming a quick little tune as he did so. "Oh, Haruhi~!" He sang out. "I have your school clothes right here, my, do they look adorable!" He smiled, as usual, his hair was pulled out, though he had shaved this morning.

Haruhi forced a smile, she still felt positively dreadful and nauseated for some reason, again, this was rather extraordinary. "Thanks, Dad." She said quickly, feeling as though she was choking on her own saliva. She coughed for a moment, before grabbing the rest of her uniform with a smile that most definitely was far from genuine.

Haruhi took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself. It was certainly not a possibility that she was sick? Surely after all this time of being healthy nonstop, she couldn't be sick?

She shrugged it off. No, that wasn't it.

She returned to her room, her father humming, half singing to himself as he cleaned and prepared breakfast.

Haruhi quietly shut the door behind her, the last puff of air from the crack of it expelled as the door secured itself.

She tore off her clothes and redressed quickly, though before she put the jacket on, she turned and walked to her bathroom. The funk of that early pre-dawn incident had subsided a while ago, leaving the overpowering aroma of aerosol air freshener and a plug-in that smelled of melons.

She examined herself in the mirror for a split second, before shrugging halfheartedly and washing her face with a blackhead cleanser.

Aside from the mild changes that had occurred while it was still dark out, this was the accustomed routine for the young woman.

She rinsed her face, the water warmer this time, splashing it gently against her skin. The only make-up she had ever used was foundation, and she quickly applied that in not more than a few swift strokes of a pad and wet/dry powder.

She stepped back, briefly examining herself before confirming that she didn't look as dreadful as she felt.

She grabbed her messenger bag from beside her old, dark wooden dresser and placed it precariously upon her shoulder, feeling the sudden weight cause her muscles to tense.

She felt around the dresser for loose change, finding a trifle amount that would probably do for the bus fee.

Stepping outside the door, she pondered for a moment what kind of excuse to give her father as to why she wasn't going to eat breakfast.

Her stomach still felt tense, as though she was going to projectile vomit everywhere. She sighed and winced.

"Harrruhhhiii~"

"Yes, Dad?"

"Come have breakfast!"

Haruhi winced. "Err, sorry, dad. I have… stomach pains."

Her father looked shocked for a moment. "But you only get stomach pains when something's wrong!" He blinked and gasped, and Haruhi stared back at him, smiling nervously. "Err. I know. I'm not too sure what's wrong yet. Just-"

"Oh no! Maybe you're sick! Maybe you should stay home! Do you have food poisoning, oh, I hope not! Have you thrown up?"

"No, Dad. I'm fine." Haruhi lied, smirking and giving him a fast hug. "I love you." She said, putting on her finest grin. When he saw his daughter beaming like that, and edging toward the door, he sighed. "All right. But call me if you get sick, okay!" He said worriedly. "Daddy's here!" He gasped hysterically.

Haruhi shot him a wide smile and he continued in his reverie even as she shut the door behind her, taking the stairs two at a time in order to perhaps take her mind off of the ache centered in her abdomen. She grimaced and half dashed toward the bus stop.

When the bus finally arrived, still feeling woozy, Haruhi slammed the bus fare into the small box, the sound of the small coins reverberating through the metal box as she took a seat as close to the door as possible.

This bus seldom got very close to Ouran Academy, so it was necessary that she walk a rather sizable distance before she got there. Somewhere in the vicinity of half a mile.

Once the bus screeched to a halt after passing by several rather uneventful places, Haruhi, seated alone and solitary on the bus, stepped off, feeling and hearing, simultaneously, her feet slapping against the concrete.

She began her hike, though half a mile really isn't so long at all, so she arrived without haste or any waste of time, whatsoever.

The road was rather distraction-free and, in no time, Haruhi stepped into music room 3.

**Phew. ._. For whatever reason, I really like this chapter.**

**Okayyy, sooo…**

**Review for more? Usually the more reviews I get, the faster I come out with chapters. (: Sorry if I put in a lot of little nonsense. I'm a NaNoWriMo graduate, so I'm totally used to it.**

**Let me know what you think!**

**-Rem**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry guys, going through a lot of title changes and summary changes. T_T Having trouble finalizing it. Good thing it's in the beginning chapters.**

**Oh, and I don't own anything. That goes for this entire fan fiction.**

"Welcome la-"

"Oh. It's just Haruhi." Were the words to come from the lips of the youngest Ootori son, as he delicately pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose so that they surrounded his eyes much better. His interruption had changed the entire attitude of the group, which was lacking both of the Hitachiin brothers, just as Tamaki had explained.

Speaking of whom, the Lonely Prince then abruptly turned, outraged. "WHAAAT!" He shouted. "_Just _Haruhi! _Just? _Kyouya, I can't believe you'd say such a thing, after all-" By this point, Tamaki had sauntered over, embracing her.

Haruhi stared, raising her eyebrows. "Tamaki." She interjected, her general tone of aggravation and boredom giving way to a hint of embarrassment as she continued, "Really, it's okay, I'm sure Kyouya just mean-"

"NO! It's not okay! We're lovers now! You're my princess and I'm your prince! Nothing must ever tear us apart, no one ever shall offend you again, my love!" He exclaimed, stars dancing in his eyes as he rubbed his cheek vigorously against hers, arms thrown around her neck.

She felt her cheeks go red and a chill went down her spine, she realized she was sweating a little, glancing at Mori, Hunni, and Kyouya, she felt herself grimace unconsciously.

Kyouya's expression was something bordering amusement, though it was difficult to tell from the glare of his glasses that was there so often.

Mori was still stoic, strong and silent as he loomed impressionably over Hunni, who was laughing and giggling as usual.

She suddenly found herself laughing nervously at his antics. "I wouldn't go that far." She smiled, and, with his classic flair, Tamaki took a step forward and grabbed her chin delicately between his forefinger and thumb, tilting it upward to face him, she smirked, but otherwise remained static.

She felt her left eyebrow twitching, in what could only be described as a mixture of irritation and a tidbit of affection for the man, with his hair waving in the breeze that had been caused by an open window somewhere in the vicinity.

"Now, princess, I must admit to you," He said softly, overflowing with affection. It was staggering to think that this was aimed toward her. "I am your knight, so I must not rest if you're insulted in such a way." His lips moved closer to hers, she felt his breath on her chin, warming it temporarily before it left her blood chilled, and another warmth creeped upon her cheeks as his lips gently brushed hers, our eyes closed.

It wasn't a kiss, really. More like a teasing touch of the tips. Tamaki, for whatever reason was prone to these little bits, perhaps because he was so accustomed to the host girls, not a true relationship.

Still blushing, Tamaki released her and she shrugged and sighed while smiling weakly, her knees felt just a little weak after that, and her stomach ache had simply gotten worse.

She was forced to reassure herself that this had absolutely nothing to do with the young Suou.

Of course, the King of Shadows was the one to break their eye contact and wrestle them apart. "Sorry to break up the reunion, you two, but we need to open up soon. Unless, of course, you'd like to sit here all day and exchange your affections, I suggest you brandish each other with love after the day is over."

Rapidly, both of them, Tamaki and Haruhi alike, were a bright shade of ruby.

Then Tamaki, being the suave fool that he was, relaxed and said simply, all the while laughing nervously, "Oh, Kyouya, you silver-tongued devil, you! Ahahahaha!" He excused himself promptly, immediately discontinuing his hysterics and immediately winking at Haruhi and extending his hand. She had to admit, he looked rather debonair, the beams of light from the above head chandelier causing his indigo eyes to twinkle, giving them the illusion of paused for a moment, then smiled and curtsied, taking his hand before releasing it, inhaling deeply.

Tamaki and her had come to an agreement on the topic of the host club and when young ladies chose them.

Though Haruhi had never been the jealous type… or even anything close to it, there must be some sort of boundaries. Tamaki was generally very reserved anyway, when it came to flirting with the girls, so the only real agreement they had come up with was no serious physical contact. By serious, they had both meant kissing.

Though, Tamaki not only complied, he was the one who had suggested this restriction.

It was clear that Tamaki's sex drive was little to none, as it never really came up with him, he was rarely suggestive.

Come to think of it, all of the host club was like this.

She supposed it went along with being rich and being raised as a gentleman.

Feeling beleaguered by Kyouya's gaze, they sighed and broke the contact again. Tamaki, looking disenchanted, stared at Kyouya for several moments before groaning, "… Kyoooouuuuuuuuyyaaaaaaaaaa. Funsucker."Kyouya glanced up from his PDA. "Hm?"

"I'm so hurt." Tamaki sighed, running a hand through his champagne hair. "Oh well." He shrugged as everyone got back into place, the first guests of the day arriving.

The only ones outside the host club who knew of Tamaki and Haruhi's now legitimate romantic relationship were Umehito and Kirimi, Ritsu, and Renge. (Although, perhaps Renge, being their alleged 'manager' counted as a member.)

The day continued uneventfully, however, Haruhi was, unfortunately, and, apparently, was the one who had to tell the girls who requested the Hitachiin brothers that they were absent, causing palpable tension when they chose their second favorite, in which case, Haruhi just beamed absentmindedly.

This was nothing short of a façade, unfortunately.

Buried inside of her was a deep worry for Kaoru and Hikaru.

First she had thrown up, and now they weren't there to attend the host club, of all things.

She was constantly feeling a tension go up her spine as she seated young ladies, brought them their tea, smiled and nodded at all the right times, however, the gears, turning precariously in the back of her mind kept her focused on the brothers.

Sure, there was, of course, the occasion in which all Haruhi wanted to do was strangle them, then further beat them to a bloody pulp.

She did, however, as the day progressed, keep her composure, and Tamaki and her had managed to put all senseless flirting (Though that was mainly on Tamaki's part) to a temporary standstill, though they exchanged brief glances and little sly smiles in the corridors when they went to get their guests some tea, or perhaps some more cake, provided by either the Ootori or Haninozuka family.

There was a particular moment when Umehito creeped through the doorway as Haruhi was getting her guest a small white cake, she turned, looking over her shoulder. "Nekozawa?" She blinked tentatively at the man, whom practically had dark tendrils yielding and seeping out the crack in the door that which he dared creep partially out of.

"Beezlenef senses dark forces. Something… unspeakable has happened!" Nekozawa said quietly, his voice trembling just as much as he was as he extended out the small hand puppet.

It was then that all the host club members glanced up. Although Haruhi had said nothing of the incident preceding the day, it was now unambiguous that everyone had been worried as well.

The guests seemed momentarily horrified by Nekozawa's appearance, he was the class of being that most wanted to stay away from, being the only member of the black magic club wasn't exactly socially gratifying.

But, then again, neither was having a hand puppet.

In spite of the fact that most of the Prince of Darkness' black magic was hocus pocus, that didn't change the fact that, when you put two and two together, it was positively petrifying to envision what could have happened.

Haruhi stood there, stunned, for the next several moments, unmoving as Nekozawa creeped back into his doorway.

This left the entire club with a sense of a mixture of panic and disorientation as they glanced amongst themselves, the guests blinking. One girl touched Tamaki's shoulder gently,

"Suou-kun?"

This brought Tamaki straight out of his trance, and he smiled like the half-wit he was. "Yes, Princess?" He turned and smiled, bowing to the young lady, looking rather dashing.

Haruhi scanned the room for each of the Hosts, Kyouya's eyes met hers, and she nodded affirmatively.

Generally, between the two of them, this kind of expression was a telepathic communication in which, meant, "We'll talk later."

Though Kyouya's father had insisted that Kyouya actually try to engage in some relationship with her, (She was well aware from the time that the Host Club has nearly snapped apart, due to Tamaki's rather brief engagement to Lady Éclair, that his full intentions had been for Kyouya to marry Haruhi.

It was quickly resolved, however, that neither of them felt quite that way about each other, although they had remained good friends, unlike many situations that were similar.

Some of the guests seemed rather disconcerted after Nekozawa's disturbing antics, so much so that Tamaki was forced to handle more than three ladies at once.

Haruhi, being rather reserved and usually taking only one or two young ladies at a time, was face to face with a young woman with long black hair, bright green eyes, and a blush covering her cheeks.

The girl smiled. "Thanks for the cake, Har-u-hi," She said meekly, and Haruhi smiled brightly, as though she were the only thing in her world for the time being.

Haruhi glanced over toward Kyouya once more. Tamaki, of course, her little fool, was positively oblivious to all else. Hunni looked worried, but he could not be entirely phased from his cake, and Mori sat beside him, living up to her typical expectations of silence.

Haruhi sighed, smirking and turning. "So, Miss, what was it you were sayin-"

Her attempt to return the situation back to normal was forced to a halt when the door creaked open, and a young man, with familiar strawberry blonde hair, dressed in the uniform of a male student of Ouran Academy came running in, soon crashing head over heels on the tiled floors.

He looked up, his face was tear-streaked and covered in scratches. His eyes were bloodshot and he was already sobbing.

Without warning, he wailed, "It's Hikaru!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Paris/TallestBlue- (My real life BFF who lives across the country from me) Ahhh, honorifics? I forgot to mention this was based around, oh, six months or a year later. Particularly for Tamaki, after the time and especially after the dramatic horse-carriage incident, I'd figure that that was all dropped, ne? Honestly, if you pay really close attention in the end of the series, Haruhi begins accidentally dropping them once in a while. Even Kyouya. I was debating about Nekozawa, but if she saved he and his little sister, it was kind of HIM that should have the honorific, hm? And… if Kyouya can eat in front of her like that, after a while I'd think no honorifics would be hilarious.**

**Wanna give a really quick shout-out to PurpleFluffBunny7813 for being my awesome first review.**

**Sorry I spell Kyouya and Hunni weird, guys. XD I know when a name is spelled weird it's distracting. I'm just mega-OCD about the little line over the first 'o' in Kyouya, and being able to sound Hunni's name out in my head while it still looks Asian…y is easier for me.**

**Uhhhm, with that being said, I noticed there were a couple of issues last chapter with line breaks when I submitted the file, it like took out a few lines. That was also written late at night, so my vocabulary got a little, uh, scarce.**

The room suddenly seemed as though it was filled to the brim with molasses, making it impossible for anyone to move at a reasonable pace, though in reality, they were moving almost faster than the eye could see. Each member of the Host Club barreled towards Kaoru.

Haruhi braced herself for the sharp pain of impact, as, she herself, was dashing toward Kaoru at lightning speed. "WHAT!" She gasped, practically throwing herself at her fellow second year, the rest of the members, even including the suave Kyouya and Takeshi, tripped over them, head over heels, right into the wall, and a crack where Tamaki's head had hit suddenly smashed into it.

Hikaru, gasping for air from his relentless cries, hiccupped out, "H-hospital!"

Kyouya stood up, snatching his now cracked glasses and moving away from the damaged wall quickly commanded, "The car!" He was uncharacteristically jumpy and panicky at the moment, which was palpably attributed to the abrupt tension.

Everyone scrambled to their feet, though Kaoru needed Haruhi pulling him up. He was positively shellshocked.

And this left everyone, like a tornado, hurrying down the hallways to the parking area. Kyouya's glasses had fallen off, though he clearly did not mind. The only thing that disturbed Haruhi was that his stormy eyes, usually calm, calculating, and concise, were filled with a maniacal panic that she found positively terrifying. As the driver slammed down the gas pedal after Kyouya had barked, "HOSPITAL!" Haruhi realized that Tamaki had his arms protectively around her, though behind his eyes, she saw he was just as terrified, if not more for the twins. His teeth were tightly ground, his chin out, his eyebrows down, and his blonde bangs just covering his eyes. She knew that now was not the time to argue with him about how clingy he was being or how she hated that kind of thing. His chin was rested quietly on top of her head, and she sighed, accepting it and shakily putting her arms around him, if not for her sake, for his.

Her brow furrowed and it took her a moment to realize tears were running down her cheeks, dripping onto the fine leather upholstery in the limousine. Of course, nothing was said.

Rather abruptly Haruhi recognized that it was Tamaki and her, and no one else who seemed to be distressed.

A quick glance around the car told her that everyone, aside from Kaoru, were composed and still, aside from being aptly uneasy.

Haruhi had no doubt that Tamaki was thinking precisely the same as her. In her mind's eye, she remembered.

__

Haruhi Kotoko Fujioka, June 14th, 2000, age 5. She has a little black bow in her hair, and her eyes, a deep chocolate brown, are burning into the ground. She is holding the hand of a young, lean man with long, shaggy hair that stopped at the base of his neck, watching the smoke billow from the monstrosity before her. Her small hand tightened around the man's, although her eyes dared not look up. "So…" She said quietly, her voice heavy with grief. "I won't be able to see Mommy any more?" She asked quietly, forcing herself to push her head up and look over to the man beside her. His teeth were gritted, his lips pursed, and his skin pale. A tear was running down his cheek in spite of how rigid he was, every muscle in his body must have been tensed. He looked down to his daughter and drove himself to smile. "She's, ah… Leaving for a little while, Haruhi."  
"Oh, okay." Haruhi said quietly, nodding, although the young girl was completely aware that he had not meant exactly that, she was intelligent enough to understand.

Haruhi had not realized she had bitten her lip until a splash of blood landed on her tongue, and she swallowed quickly. Feeling Tamaki so taut beside her made her something between anxious and terrified. It was rather odd to see him so… so… fraught, when he was usually the happy-go-lucky, carefree person that he was.

In an attempt to pacify both him and herself, she rested a hand on his, which he tightly clutched for the remainder of the time in the car. It wasn't until they pulled up to the hospital and everyone practically piled onto each other that he released her and stepped out, running full speed ahead, down the pallid, sterile smelling lobby.

Kyouya went straight through the line of people waiting at the front desk, demanding, "I am Kyouya Ootori, what room is Hikaru Hitachiin in!" before dashing off to the elevators to meet everyone else. Kaoru was constantly slamming the top button, and he soon began swearing. "DAMNIT! HURRY!" He wailed, the tears from his eyes creating a pool on the floor.

This only panicked everyone else further. For the first time, Haruhi noticed that he had a huge purple bruise on the side of his cheek, in addition to the freshly scabbed-over cuts.

Haruhi felt frozen in place when he tumbled into the elevator.

__

Haruhi Kotoko Fujioka, February 18th, 2000, age four.  
"Dad?"  
"Yes, Haruhi?"  
"Is Mommy sick?"

There is a little girl with long brown hair and big beautiful brown eyes, her hair is pulled back but her bangs and framing fall around and over her face. There is a man in his late twenties looking at her in bewilderment.  
"…What makes you think that?" He asked, putting on airs for his daughter.

"She stays in bed all the time and she always talks about what she's going to do when she gets better." The little girl's voice is monotonous.

The man paused, flabbergasted. He thinks for a second before saying quietly, "Yes, Haruhi. Mommy's sick. But she's going to get better. Very soon, too. Okay?" The man smiles again, lightheartedly. He has stooped down to his daughter's level, on one knee.  
Haruhi pauses for a moment, thinking, then she accepts his answer with a smirk.. "Okay."  
"Okay! So can you find the strawberries for Dad?" He asks with a grin.

The little girl smiles and laughs, nodding and pointing behind him. "Right there! You're so weird." She says, making a face.

The man forces a smile and steps up, placing the plastic box in the cart.

Every muscle in her body was tensed up, she hadn't realized that Tamaki was shouting for her to come into the elevator. "Haruhi!" He gasped, his face clouded with concern as he reached out, snatching her hand and pulling her in.

"Wahh- Tamaki!"  
Tamaki just looked at her, his eyes wide and his face ashen. His hand had a viselike grip on hers, circulation in her fingers was cut off.

Hunni was clutching to Mori and his stuffed rabbit. He looked up at Mori, his eyes clouded in horror, and Mori sighed, giving him a look of pity, wincing himself, for once.

The elevator was unusually frigid and silent as the obnoxious elevator music droned on, everyone's breath shaky and uneven.

When the doors finally opened with a trademark pinging sound, Kyouya was the first out, dashing down the hallways, past IV drips with nothing in them and no people attached, past a reference desk for Emergency Care.

Haruhi felt her stomach drop even more, the world was spinning around her, and it got not much better when Kyouya took a sharp turn to the right, Tamaki tugging on her arm. She was rather taken aback that he hadn't already yanked her arm out of it's socket, her shoulder was aching terribly.

She felt every little thing, it was as if someone had put the world on high contrast. The edges of her vision were blurring, she thought she might actually be seeing red. Everything around her was changing constantly, and the only thing that remained constant was the pain in her shoulder and the feeling of Tamaki's hand tugging her along near the back of the terrified group. It could have been either one hour or one lifetime or five seconds that they were running, of that she was absolutely unsure.

She felt every little sensation, when Tamaki's fingers curled tighter around hers, the stares of nurses, doctors, and patients alike boring into the back of her, seeing straight through to her soul.

She even felt the way that her bangs wisped around on her forehead before falling to the sides of her head, leaving her forehead clear. She had her eyes closed, the wind from stumbling after at such a quick pace left the wind burning her already tear-filled eyes.

She began to hear something. Perhaps it was a real thing inside the hospital, or perhaps it was something her mind had conjured up to keep her busy and off her thoughts.

It was unremitting, long, and it became louder the further and more that they ran.

It soon became something like a nuisance, while Haruhi was trying to concentrate on the task at hand.

When she felt Tamaki turn shortly into a dark room with several machines inside of it, she realized what it was.

A flat line.

She didn't need to look at whoever was laying there.

The room was dark aside from the lit up machine.

Haruhi spun around, burying her face in the trashcan as she threw up once more.

Somewhere, vaguely behind her, perhaps somewhere in the hallway, she heard a voice she thought might be Kyouya, though she wasn't sure.

"This is an outrage and a disgrace to my family! I can't believe you would allow this to happen! I will have every single _one _of you fired! _Do you hear me?_ All of you!"


	4. Chapter 4

She felt a warmth on her side.

"Nnnnhh…" Haruhi nuzzled closer to whatever heat source, feeling a soft down blanket over a duvet on top of her, feeling just as warm as was comfortable, she curled up against the heat, feeling a small smirk curling onto her lips. She shifted slightly.

She was slightly conscious of the fact that she was half awake, though she had no true recollection of who she was or anything about herself or where she was, all that mattered was that warmth and that she wasn't moved away from the blankets or the warmth, the calm, warmness that enveloped her, as she curled up against this other heat on her side that she contoured her body to fit, feeling something else warm wrap around her waist. She moaned softly, contented with being snuggled up against whatever this was. Whatever it was had it's arms, if it even was arms, wrapped around her waist.

She felt movement on top of her head, but she wasn't too sure what it had been, nor did she have time to consider what it before she slipped back into total darkness and blissful unconsciousness.

Haruhi's eyes fluttered open, she blinked quietly while she examined the room around her, ornately adorned with light purples, deep lavenders, and different colors of white. A painting she recalled Kyouya doing quite a while ago of purple flowers, slowly budding, hung in a golden frame on the wall.

Wait.

This wasn't her room. Her stomach dropped. She was laying in a gigantic round bed, a royal purple duvet covered her, it was most definitely over 700 thread count, she was in a soft cotton nightgown that was a soft green color, and a feathered comforter over the duvet with a light blue throw was over it.

She felt her blood turn to ice, her eyes were huge. She looked around nervously to see a tray with several plates on it, one piled with strawberry crepes, a white vanilla and strawberry sauce drizzled over it, sliced strawberries decadently covering it. Another plate carried two croissants, and a single apple sat there with a glass of what appeared to be orange juice.

Haruhi blinked for a split second, before noticing a note attached to the glass.

"_Voici votre déjeuner, je sera dedans bientôt. xoxoxo, Tamaki"_

Haruhi felt her eyebrow twitch. What didn't he understand about the fact that she didn't speak French? It was a bit soothing to know that this was Tamaki's room.

She sighed and laid back town, her head sinking into the luscious, comforting touch of the pillows.

She looked over when she heard the door crack, and a familiar blonde head peeking in.

"I'm awake." Haruhi said softly, her voice awkwardly monotonous.

Tamaki came in, wearing nothing but sweatpants. "Oh. Good. How long have you been up?"

Haruhi sighed, shutting her eyes. "Not long." She shuddered. "What…" She felt her throat close up and her eyes begin to burn.

Through her tears, she saw Tamaki frown and walk over again, sitting down on the edge of the bed and running his fingers through her hair.

"What… what happened to Hikaru?" She choked, her bottom lip quivering as she buried her face deeper into her pillow.

She saw Tamaki wince, his indigo eyes portraying sudden pain. He clenched his teeth and his face went from placid to indignant. "He's…"

"He's what?" She asked suddenly, sitting up. Her expression was even worse than horrified, it was positively terrified.

"He's gone, Haruhi." Tamaki said quietly, and Haruhi watched a tear roll slowly down his cheek to his chin, where it dripped down onto the sheets, leaving a small dark splat on the fabric.

She felt the muscles in her throat, stomach, and everything in general tense. Before she knew it, her head was buried in Tamaki's lap, and she was wailing, her face red, her eyes bloodshot, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was only slightly aware that he was the same, his arms around her, his eyes clenched shut, one hand gently stroking her hair, they were clinging to each other as though they would drop dead should they release each other.

Trembling and letting out uncontrollable cries and sobs, curling up in Tamaki's lap, Haruhi felt askew and out of place.

Haruhi collected herself after around fifteen minutes, sitting up quietly and wiping her tears. "I-I… my… dad…" She hiccupped softly.

"It's taken care of." Tamaki squeaked, in a horrible attempted to coo and placate her. "I… When you fainted, we… we had the secretary call Ranka. He's downstairs having tea with my father. Would you… Would you like to see him?" Tamaki inquired softly, his fingers running through her hair as he held her close to him, his breathing surprisingly calm and soft in spite of the panicked, painful situation.

Haruhi nodded, afraid to open her mouth, for fear of bursting out with another pitiful sob. Her face was red from the effort.

Tamaki nodded, his pale fingers gently brushing her shoulder, soft, calm, sweet.

He stood up softly, the tears still pouring down his face. Haruhi felt her heart begin to ache. She just nodded after a moment, sighing and left there, sitting on Tamaki's bed.

Before he left the room, he murmured, "Try to eat something, okay?" He said quietly. He left the door open, so Haruhi was left sitting there, to watch her lover leave, a sharp pain throbbing her chest continuously.

She winced each time these throbs happened, it was as if someone were stabbing her in the chest, the shock wave reverberating over and over throughout her body before it became suddenly painful.

She realized after a moment: That was her own heartbeat.

She was shaking, as, using up all the energy she had after her fit with Tamaki, she unsteadily reached over to snatch the apple sitting on the silver platter. At any other time, she would have gobbled everything down. It was rare for her to have such food.

Particularly French food.

However, she was too distracted with what had just transpired to worry about such things, like who had dressed her, how she got here, who had been next to her while she was sleeping, why she was in Tamaki's bed, why and how she had gotten there, and… And what was going on with everyone else. The other Host Club members.

She silently prayed that Kaoru was okay. If anyone was going to be hurt from this, it would be Kaoru. She had heard stories about twins that lost each other, just normal fraternal twins, and often, the one left spiraled into a depression.

But these were the Hitachiin brothers. The men who spoke and acted in unison, who covered up their parts and tried to switch places, the brothers whom had grown up with no one but each other. She figured it had to hurt to even fight with your brother when you're so close, let alone lose him.

Briefly, an image flashed in her mind, Kaoru, speaking the same way he always had, as if his brother were right beside him, although he was all alone.

And something inside her sloshed around. Sickened, she allowed her head to flop back onto the pillows, which emitted a soft 'whoosh' of protest.

She heard the door creak a little, and gentle, tentative footsteps resonating around the large room."Haruhi?" It was her father.

"D-dad…" She said quietly, unable to even lift her head to look at Ranka.

She heard Ranka's voice tremble as he said oh-so-softly, "I'm so sorry, Haruhi. I…"

"I know." Haruhi whispered, her voice oddly mellifluous. "I'm sorry, too."

"Why?" Ranka questioned quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Why would you be? This wasn't your fault." He clutched her hand. His grip wasn't quite as stalwart as Tamaki's.

Haruhi's thoughts were fleeting at this point. She suddenly was trying to remember the last thing she'd said to Hikaru before this.

_A girl, though she is dressed as a boy, sits calmly at a table, speaking to a long-haired brunette who has her lashes tarred with mascara._

_A couple of strawberry blonde boys, obviously twins, stepped in unison, creeping up behind her with a mischievous look plastered on both their faces. Their fingers are raised to their lips in an attempt to hush the long-haired girl as she spoke to Haruhi. _

_Haruhi does not seem to notice. _

_The twins are carrying a small machine, it looks like it emits sound of some sort, and one of them has a remote. While one nodded, placing the sound machine right beside the girl's ear, to the other, the other pressed an orange button on the small black remote._

_A thunder-like sounds discharged from the sound machine, and Haruhi jumps over a feet in the air, frantically looking around and shouting, "WHAT! WHERE! THUNDER!"_

_The two twins just laugh and laugh, they can't seem to get enough of her horrified expression. Her eyes narrow and her brow lowers when she turns around to see it's them._

"_You IDIOTS!" She roars, and they just laugh and lau-_

"Haruhi."

Her train of thought was interrupted when Ranka called her back to reality.

Why hadn't she said something better than that?

That was what Hikaru remembered? He was an idiot?

Haruhi suddenly went stiff. Why? Oh, GOD, why? Why hadn't she said something so much… So much better to him? Something along the lines of how intelligent, kind, and hilarious he was, in spite of the fact that he might be silly at times?

It was her that was the idiot. She could never forgive herself for that.

When she burst into tears, Ranka remained calm and quiet, the cross dresser wrapped his arms around his daughter, sighing quietly and humming an old lullaby that Haruhi's mother used to sing when she was merely a toddler.

Perhaps it was rather juvenile, Haruhi had always been the independent, go-getter type of person, so being coddled and pacified by both her boyfriend and her father in less than thirty minutes was something strange for her.

And it was a bit embarrassing. However, she paid no attention to such a thing now, she just began crying again, tears rolling vigorously down her cheeks. Her father looked so terrified and at a loss for what to do at this point, so he sat there, rocking her back and forth. Haruhi noticed his worry and glanced up silently, putting her arms around his neck and sighing, opening her red eyes. "I love you, Dad." She whispered.

Soon after, however, her composure was lost once more, and she became like a small child once again, her father cooing to her and trying to calm her down, though not acting rushed or too concerned, just focusing on calming her down first.

She was so distracted, in the midst of her sorrow, that she noticed a dejected-looking Tamaki standing in the doorway, sadness and pain in his eyes as he threw on a T-shirt, closing his eyes, sighing, nodding to Ranka, and quietly shutting the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

"H-how long have I been here?" Haruhi asked coyly, her vision still brimming with tears, though all of her power had been used previously as she laid there quietly with Tamaki, all alone.

Tamaki blinked, taken off guard, before a weak smile graced his lips. "You've been sleeping nearly all day, Princess." He said quietly.

Her shock did not overwhelm her grief, yet that did not make it overshadow it in it's entirety.

"A-and, who w-was sleeping here?"

It had been nearly an hour since she had been sitting here, bawling with him, she'd stayed with Ranka for around that time, and he had forced her to eat, saying she was shaking from hunger, though it felt as though her stomach was closed up near the top so she could eat nothing.

Then Ranka had left and Tamaki had come back, so she began to ask the other questions that she had. She felt bad for not wanting to think of Hikaru all the time, like she should be only focusing on the death, but her face had turned stone cold, she felt almost… oblivious.

The way Tamaki was responding, he was fairly rushed, as though trying to keep his mind off of this. He was shaking just as much as she had.

"That was me. You asked me not to go when I put you to bed. You kept calling my name in your sleep. So… So I just… I just laid down and you kept clinging to me." He explained, his face reddening.

Haruhi more felt the groan in the back of her throat than heard it, she sighed. So that's what it had been… "Okay. Well… Who changed me?"

"I just had one of the maids do it. You know I have more class than that, you still have your undershirt on and everything, too.

Haruhi realized this was true. She was still wearing her bra and camisole, she felt like a fool for having not noticed such things. "Oh…." She sighed quietly.

Tamaki's brow furrowed. "This is going to sound redundant, but are you okay?"

"… I don't know."

"Good, because I don't either." Tamaki groaned and rolled over onto his back, looking up at the ceiling.

Several minutes passed, and Haruhi finally closed her eyes.

"Tamaki…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think that dead men forgive the last thing you said to them?"

Tamaki blinked. "Why…? Did you say something to Hikaru?"

Haruhi, feeling the backs of her eyes burning once again, nodded furiously as she clamped her lids shut, biting her lip.

She heard Tamaki's concerned, quiet exhale. "What did you say?"

"I just… They were messing with me like usual, I called him an idiot. I promise I didn't mean to…" Haruhi said quietly, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Tamaki moved forward, grabbing hold of her chin and gently pushing his lips onto hers. "Shh." He wiped away her tear, putting on a smile for her.

Oh God.

What had she done? He was forcing himself to be happy for her, her of all people? Haruhi was dumbfounded as he leaned down to kiss her again, she closed her eyes, an odd calm came upon her, her eyes shut, she suddenly felt warm, when Tamaki exhaled she felt it brush her cheek, warm and comforting.

Tamaki released her, his nose nearly touching her, their eyes locked.

"Haruhi, I promise you. I've known Hikaru for a long time, since he was a second year in middle school. And I swear that he'd forgive you for something stupid like that."

Finding herself choking on her own tensed throat, Haruhi nodded silently, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Y-you don't have to do this." Haruhi hiccupped. "You act like everything's…. Okay."

Tamaki seemed to think for a moment, looking… nauseous.

Haruhi blinked, sighing. "I'm sorry I'm making you act like this."

"It's not you." Tamaki sighed, his rouse had gone out the window. "It's not you at all. I'm just as terrified as you are." He explained softly.

Haruhi tensed and nodded vicariously. "I don't want you to a-act like this to make me happy or keep me from being upset. I'm going to be upset anyway." She pointed out.

Tamaki's head lowered down until it hung. She could practically already hear his sobs.

She winced when a tear creeped down his cheek quietly, meeting another near the base of his chin, dripping onto the sheet again.

Haruhi sighed and brushed his bangs out of his eyes, before she began to cry.

They cried themselves to sleep that morning, in each other's arms.

* * *

When Takashi Morinozuka wakes up in the mornings, he sits up, stands up, walks to the bathroom, brushes his teeth, takes a shower, washes his hair, dries off, puts on his clothes, and walks downstairs to meet Mitskuni Haninozuka for breakfast.

When Mitskuni Haninozuka wakes up in the mornings, he sits up, yawns, tells his stuffed bunny, Usa-chan, that he loves him, and thank you for not waking him up, or he would have been very upset. He stands up, walks to the bathroom, takes a shower using bubblegum-scented shampoo, dries off, puts on his clothes, and walks downstairs to meet Takashi Morinozuka for breakfast.

This was not, however, an average morning.

Because Hikaru Hitachiin had passed away last night.

Mitskuni had stayed up most of the night, nightmares chasing every thought, waking or sleeping. He had been far too terrified to sit up in the darkness, crying into Usa-chan's belly.

After nearly fifteen minutes of his wailing, Takashi walked in and flicked on the light. "Mitskuni?" He asked softly.

When Mitskuni looked up, she saw also, that Mori's face was streaked with tears as well, though he wasn't crying right now, just the tears of yesterday left stained on his face, the muscles in his neck were taut, an obvious sign that he was doing his best not to burst into tears now.

Mitskuni blinked in surprise. "Takashi… Are you crying?" He looked shocked, his rouse of mock innocence had dissipated, his confusion and sorrow overshadowing his usual mask.

Takashi shook his head in silence, his vigil remaining unbroken.

Mitskuni frowned quietly, his brow furrowing and the corners of his mouth dipping downward in a frown as he paused.

Mori leaned quietly against the doorway, his face down. "Are you… alright, Mitskuni?" He asked quietly to Hunni.

Hunni had a long moment of silence before he nodded. "Yes." He sniffled, wiping his eyes. Mori flicked the light off. The only way Hunni could tell that he was moving around inside the room was by his footsteps and the dim early morning sunlight reflected through closed curtains.

"What are you doing?" Mitskuni asked quietly, clinging to Usa-chan.

His eyes darkened and Mori slid a chair over next to Mitskuni's bed. "I'm going to stay here." Mori said, his voice calm, but imposing.

"Wh-why?" Hunni asked quietly, trying to contain his happiness on the matter.

"So you can sleep and not cry anymore." Taskashi explained simply, tilting his head quietly to the side. "Do you want me to leave?" He asked, blinking.

Mitskuni was both relieved and worried. "But… How will you sleep?" He asked, his voice soft.

Takashi just stared back at him. "You know I can sleep sitting up, Mitskuni." He said, raising an eyebrow.

Hunni's face fell, he nodded in silence, and Takashi glanced over at him. "I'm going to miss him." Takashi mumbled, not looking at him. Hunni nodded quietly. "Takashi..." He began, sitting up in his cotton button-down pajamas, the bottom part of his torso and legs covered in a comforter as he clung to Usa-chan. "Do you think, maybe, when we bury Hikaru..." He began, hesitant.

Mori glanced over to acknowledge he was, in fact, paying attention to his cousin.

"You know that I have two Usa-chans, one has a bowtie, I don't like that one as much, it just stays in my closet. Uhm... Do you think they'd let me give it to Hikaru for when we bury him?"

Mori was suddenly shocked for some reason. Not so much for the fact that the boy wanted to bury one of his best friends with a stuffed animal, but more his selflessness. Perhaps he was a gentleman and he had been raised to be polite, but he was always overprotective of both of the stuffed bunnies.

Mori opened his mouth to say something, then closed it once again, deep in thought. "I think they would." He said. In spite of the fact that he was emotionless, his voice wasn't cold. It was more... congenial.

If Mitskuni could have seen his expression, he was sure that Mori would have been smirking. "I..." Mitskuni began again. "I miss him a lot already." He said quietly, his eyes down as he flopped back into the pillow, covered with little flowers everywhere.

Mori nodded. "I know. I... This is hard to believe." He said, his eyes down. Hunni nodded. "It's like it only ever happens to other people, never to you, right?" He asked, one arm clutching Usachan close to the side of his abdomen.

Takashi, after a moment, nodded. "Yeah." He said distantly, clearly spaced out again. "It is." He pursed his lips and shut his eyes, grunting with the effort as tears collected in the sides of his eyes.

Hunni had already began silently crying, his face burried in his pillow, leaving dark spots everywhere. Mori flinched in silence. "Mitskuni, I'm sorry." He partially whispered, partially said, his voice cracking as he did so.

Mitskuni nodded, his voice breaking quietly when he mumbled, his voice muffled even further by the pillow. "Me too..."

**Whoo! Five chapters! **

**Sorry, I know the chapter was a bit OOC, but I don't recall a time in the series where they were in MOURNING like this.**

**So, it was a bit awkward to write. **

**Review, pretty please? (: I really like to hear that you liked it... Or hated it.**

**- Rem**

**PS - If you want something amazing to occupy your time, read 'Everything to Gain' by TallestBlue.**


	6. Chapter 6

**OHMIGOD.**

**:'{D**

**I just had the coolest idea for the last chapter of this, from the music I'm gonna force on you guys while you read for maximum effect, to a little illustration I wanna do in GIMP2.**

**I'm going to slow down my updates now, in an attempt to get reviews more often, I'm going to progressively slow it down. This will be my last update until Monday, then I'll update either… Eh, Thursday or Friday? I hope to make it somewhere around weekly, because if I didn't, this would be finished in like a week, at the rate I'm going.**

"It's MY FAULT!" Kyouya roared, his clenched fist slammed into the walll. "I DID THIS!" The raven howled. His cracked glasses lay askew on the floor, the ankle of his slacks had been torn he had been running back to the car, still shouting at the doctors, nurses, secretaries, threatening to have the entire hospital shut down, he had even begun to walk backwards, screaming obscenities and Tamaki and Mori had been forced to each take an arm and pull him back, cold anger and pain frozen onto their faces.

He stared down at his knuckles, blood dripping down his hand and wrist, eventually rolling down his forearm until they dripped to the floor, staining it red. He swung his fist forward again at full force, without warning or sign. He glared at it for a moment.

A crack sounded throughout the wall, and a blood handprint was left overlaying a long, deep crack that was now embedded into the drywall. Who cared? He narrowed his eyes and disgust. How could he be so… idiotic! He had known that there were problems going on within the hospital.

Why had he done… nothing? He hadn't been able to save him.

There was no one to stop him here. His sister had moved away months ago.

He stared into his desk, his eyes huge, his hand bleeding notwithstanding so that it pooled in a puddle on the desk.

Was he, the Shadow King, the youngest of the Ootori brothers, truly going… insane? Had the rest of them finally rubbed onto him.

A tear rolled down his cheek, hot and angry as he spun around, heatedly tossing his punches into a pillow, where they sank in, absorbing his fist before he drew it out again, uncaring as to whether or not it was damaged. "I'm such an IDIOT!" He barked, throwing his head down into the bloody pillow, the normally calm man had been thrown into a whole new playing field by this last turn of events.

He was liable for this! This was him! It was his burden! Hot tears burned his eyes and streamed down his face burning everything they touched, before they dissipated, leaving him with nothing but a dry crust on his cheeks and chin.

He was alone. He was sure Kaoru hated him. He was sure everyone hated him now. Hikaru was dead. He threw another anrgy, bloody punch at the pillow, a splatter of blood backlashing and landing on his cheek.

Kyouya trembled, tossing the pillow aside, and surveying the damage he'd done to his room. Paper were scattered around the floor, things from the shelves were skewn across the carpet as though a tornado had come in, taking it's massive appendages of air and swirled them in every possible place, picking up every object within reach and setting it down in a completely different place.

Still tense, not a single muscle loosening, he bent down laboriously to snatch up the books, unwilling to call a maid, simply because he knew they would think he was self harming, as it happened to many young men who went through something similar.

But Kyouya would not stoop that low. He wouldn't.

He wouldn't sit around and blame himself, he'd do something about this and have every one of those fools out of a job and he'd charge them for manslaughter!

Hikaru couldn't be dead!

These idiots had killed him!

Damn those bastards! Damnit, damnit, damnit! Why hadn't he fixed these issues with the hospital!

He did this! He had killed Hikaru.

His thoughts continued spiraling downward.

_All I'm doing is blaming them for something that's my fault. Why did I do this? Why did I let this happen? This… I did this. They did everything they could._

_I'm the one whose family owns that place…_

_It's all my fault._

_

* * *

_

"It's all my fault."

The quiet sob was barely audible, in fact, the only thing in existence that would ever hear it would be his cat, Nigri.

Every muscle in Kaoru's body was limp, loose, and useless, as though all the strings that connected them had been snipped by someone who had a kind of grudge against him. Some sort of enemy had come in and cut the connections.

When the young man looked up to see the small gray tabby with it's ocean eyes, just blinking quietly, Kaoru suddenly tensed, angry. He wailed suddenly, his face buried into the pillow.

The strawberry blonde's hair was going in every possible direction aside from the one in which he often preferred it to go.

But now it didn't matter. The strange thought that drifted into his mind was, _How will I part my hair now?_

The tears were still flowing down his eyes.

This was all his fault.

All his fault.

His hand, seemingly hovering, floated gently up to his face to touch the huge bruise on the side of his face.

_I was driving. I should have watched out. I should have paid more attention. I did this. I killed my own brother… And then I left! I left... I left when he was still... when he still had a heartbeat. I was stupid and I left to go get them instead of calling them. I'm such an idiot!_

This thought caused his sobbing to become more intense as all he felt were the rough fibers of his pillow, which he pressed up roughly against his face, though he felt a small soft brush on his arm.

He looked up, his vision watery and unclear through his tears, so he had to rub his eyes to identify the small gray shape, rubbing up against his side and purring, though looking at him in intense confusion, as if to say, _Where is Hikaru?_

"Dead." Kaoru said suddenly, and, oddly enough, the kitten looked surprise. Nigri inclined his ears in confusion.

"Don't you know what that is?" Kaoru sneered, suddenly shoving the poor cat off the bed with a yowl.

Guilt exploded in his chest as Kaoru gently leaned over the side of the bed, tears dripping onto the carpet, and he watched the cat dart out the door, shocked and angry.

He felt a great pain once again and tears burned his eyes, he felt his nose begin to feel constricted as if it were on fire, and a tear rolled down his cheek. "I'm sorry. Please come back." He whispered, not just to Nigri.

Kaoru's eyes fell, his head suddenly felt… heavy. As though someone was pulling it down, down, down with a rope, as if Satan was trying to take him, too.

He shook his head to clear the thought. He couldn't think that way.

He had to try to be positive, think better thoughts than this.

He hoped there was a heaven. Maybe there was some kind of test that Hikaru had to take in order to get in, though?

He wondered, if there was some kind of afterlife, did Hikaru forgive him? Hell, did Hikaru still give a shit about him? Was he looking down now, swearing him out, or graciously smiling? Probably swearing him out, he'd bed ten to one. He was probably vehemently muttering curses under his breath right now.

Hell, he was going to burn for this one. He scowled, tears dribbling down his chin as he sniffled, making absolutely no effort to pull himself together. What was the point? There was no one else in the room, no one could stand to be in his room anymore, not even the cat he'd adopted with Hikaru.

What would it matter? His own brother, his twin brother, his carbon copy, positively loathed him now. If he'd been paying more attention when that SUV had pulled out in the red light… If Hikaru had been the one driving! Hikaru had always been a good driver, he wouldn't have let Kaoru die! He felt a sudden weakness throughout his body once again. His head hurt from the constant sobs that wracked his body.

But no, Hikaru had needed to force himself into the driver's seat because it was his turn. It was so… juvenile. And, yet, he had still done it, like a fool, and killed his own brother. Hikaru was gone for good, he'd finally messed up enough. What would he do now? Who was he to speak in unison with? The walls of his room became blurred with his own tears as he shut his eyes half way, every muscle in his body tensing as he let out a sharp wail, he felt his misery explode in his chest, in his heart.

His brother was DEAD! Dead and gone! Never to return!

DEAD!

DEAD!

GONE! And he wasn't coming back! There was no way he'd ever hear his voice again!

The scariest thought drifted into his head: _What if I forget his voice?_

Kaoru could now only feel the sobs quaking his body as he gasped and wailed even further, curling up underneath the blankets. His pillow was sopping with the tears. He was being an idiot. Who cried this much? Who did this? He was so… evil. He was positively malevolent. He was wicked. He was… he was… He was just evil! How could he have done something like this, killed his twin brother? A part of him had gone now. It had disappeared and it was now never to be seen again. He felt himself wobble, everything was spinning around him. A sick feeling exploded in his stomach.

"Sorry, Hikaru…" He muttered, forcing his eyes shut as he squeezed out another tear that rolled down his cheek and fell onto the sheets. "I shouldn't have left you there. I shouldn't have been driving. You don't deserve this. It should have been me. People would miss me less. Everyone always remembers you." He murmured slowly, bundling up the corner of the blankets and clutching them close to his torso. "Sorry."


	7. Chapter 7

**Eargh.**

**Uhhhhhhhhh.**

**So I guess I screwed up, thanks to Dragon Night Reina for pointing out a bit of a plot hole that the plot bunnies are trying to sew back together again, apparently the Japanese can't drive until their eighteen? OOPS. UHH. Let's pretend?**

**:P **

**- Rem**

"My name is Tamaki Suou." Tamaki had enunciated his words surprisingly well, in shocking contrast to his expression, which was contorted in emotion. Although, he had always been articulate. Haruhi winced as his voice suddenly cracked in his next second. "I am one of the founders of the Ouran High School Host Club." He said, his voice becoming higher as his voice tensed. "And I was the first outside the Hitachiin family to tell Hikaru and Kaoru apart."

Haruhi was puzzled as to why he would include such a detail, such a miniscule thing in the midst of the many other things that he could of said, though her perplexity was not overshadowed by her mourning as half of her mind focused on Tamaki's speaking, she was unable to focus on his expression any more as she stared into her lap, the other half of her mind focusing on nothing as he turned her head, not realizing her face had turned red as a tear slowly moved down her cheek. Tamaki coughed, clearing his throat briefly, before resuming. She could see the pain and hint of fear smoldering in his eyes.

"One of the aspects of Hikaru that he always had, that I was always so… Intrigued by, was that he was his own person, in spite of his brother. Hikaru, though some people are terrible at seeing this, was a very different person from anyone I've ever met. Not only was he kind and so able to charm other people when he made the effort, he was, out of six other people… He was one of my… best friends." He said, his voice going quiet as he walked to the left, walking back into the 'Family' area.

In spite of the fact that they weren't family, Kaoru and both of their parents had insisted that they were like siblings and had convinced the home to allow them to sit there.

Haruhi was nearly overcome when, slowly, Kyouya stood up. His hand, around the knuckles, was bandaged firmly, though he refused to acknowledge it with anyone. He had retrieved another pair of glasses, and, though his expression was the same behind his glasses, the glare bright and blinding, she could sense that he was just as upset by this turn of events.

His steps forward, usually raucous and imposing, were muffled and softened by freshly shined black dress shoes, clearly brand new. Slowly, in mid step, he turned to the rest of the group, adjusting his tie, even less emotional than all of them were accustomed to.

"I am Kyouya Ootori." He said harshly, his words seemed to grate on the minds of everyone in the room as he stood in front of the casket, which had stayed open.

As Tamaki sat down, Haruhi could hear the struggled whines emanating from his throat as he fingered the small fabric rose that was pinned on his blazer. She tenderly moved her hand forward, resting her hand on his knee. She saw his indigo eyes shoot up in surprise, she never did this, and she gave him a weak smile, which he did his best to return, giving her a mangled, forced grin. Haruhi winced, feeling the floral patch on the hem of her own dress. She was brought back to reality when Kyouya said stridently, "I was also a co-founder of the Ouran High School Host Club. Hikaru was… Hikaru was someone you can't exactly forget. I've never met someone who is so… impish and mischievous, yet, at the same time," A small smile graced his lips as the corner of his mouth turned upward, though it was only slight. "So extroverted and empathetic." After a moment, Kyouya burst into laughter, his shoulders trembling. "He was so… comical! His antics were performed with such delicate care, yet clumsily done as though he had done them on a whim. He was charming and from the moment I met him, I suppose, in a way, I knew already that he was going to be one of my closest companions." By that point, his laughter had faded, replaced with a melancholy, half-witted smirk as he stared into the ground at an angle, lost in a reverie. "I'm going to miss him. A lot." He said quietly, his eyes dazed as he paced over to the block of chairs in which the rest of the Host Club and the Hitachiin family resided.

It was then that Mori stepped out. His steps were loud and daunting, the face he bore was detached. "Takashi Morinozuka." He said coldly. "Hikaru, with the Host Club, was one of the closest things I'll ever have to a brother." He fumbled his words, he was unaccustomed to speaking so much in so little time, and speaking so emotionally compromised. He glanced over toward the rest of them before nodding and striding over back toward them, Hunni passing them, unusually hushed as he turned, his expression suddenly becoming forced as he grinned, clutching two stuffed rabbits, one with a red bowtie, seemingly new, the other plain and dirtied, appearing as if it'd been washed and re-washed.

"Hi!" He beamed widely, laughing slightly, like a small child, his mock innocence was clearly seen through at this point, he had been composed and grim a moment ago, most could now see through his rouse anyway. "I'm Mitskuni Haninozuka! People call me Hunni!" He greeted the assembly with a colossal, charismatic wave. "I'm from the Host Club, too!"

At this point, many seemed puzzled, mumbling amongst themselves, though Hunni seemed oblivious. "Hika-chan was one of my best friends, and I really wish I could at least say goodbye." He said suddenly, his expression sobered. "But, I don't think I'll get the chance." He sniffled suddenly, his eyes were surprisingly red, Haruhi noticed, as if he'd been up all night crying. It occurred to her how close they really were, for Hunni to break his façade for something like this. She felt Tamaki's grip on her hand tighten immensely.

"But, it's okay, because if we keep being good people, we'll all get to see Hika-chan again." Hunni said, suddenly beaming again, having realized his mistake. "So," He continued without fear or favor, "I have two of these handmade bunnies. They're both named Usa-chan. I may be a little old to carry him around, and he may be old, but he's one of my best friends. But I think that Usa-chan with the bowtie needs another friend, and I think Hika-chan does too! Hunni slowly walked over to the open coffin.

The inside was draped in a purple satin, and on the side, there was enough space for the second stuffed rabbit to sit. Hunni, with a small smile, placed it gingerly beside the fallen Hikaru, whom had his hands folded and his eyes closed, skin pale.

He didn't really look asleep, like most people said. He looked just like a candle, with the light gone out. Everything's there, but something that makes it… what it is was had simply gone.

Hunni smiled and stepped off, when Haruhi felt a small tug in her heart, and she sighed, standing up and walking over, her inch high heels surprisingly quiet on the floor.

"I'm Haruhi Fujioka." She said softly. "I'm also a member of the Ouran High School Host Club." She explained weakly. At no other time had she felt so powerless and sick. Her words coming out slowly like putty pouring from her lips, she began, near inaudibly, "Hikaru was more than a friend to me." She whispered. "He was damn near close to being in a relationship with me. He was one of the best men, among a few others, including my father, that I think I'll ever know in my life." She said quietly. "And no one will ever be able to replace him, nor will anyone fill up the pain that I feel right now, for both his brother and my heart." She finished, bowing softly and mumbling, "Thanks." as she darted back toward the group.

"Hey, uhm." Haruhi's thoughts, fleeting and numerous, were interrupted by a quiet, high voice. To her bewilderment, it was Renge Hoshakuji. She stepped out from the rows in front of the group. "My name is Renge. Hiakru was one of the best, most giving people I know." She flashed a smile, sitting down briefly.

"Oh, hey. Me too." Ritsu Kasanoda stepped up, turning, his face looking as if he was struggling to stand up against gravity perpetually. As his eyebrow twitched, he forced out, "Hitachiin was a good guy."

A call from the back was what surprised Haruhi the most. "Hikaru Hitachiin? Both Beezleneth and I thought he had so much goodness. It was hard to be around him." Came the wavering, shaky voice from the back where a blob of darkness seemed to emanate.

Haruhi sighed quietly, the tears burning the edges of her eyes as more and more people stood up to speak on Hikaru's behalf. Even her father stood up to share his own testimony of the young man. Her vision became blurry and undefined as tears clouded her vision, but she heard one voice above all the rest, although her face was buried in Tamaki's shoulder.

"I loved my brother. People have gotten us confused and mixed up, but he had to deal with it, too." Kaoru whispered, standing there while the rest of the room stood in hushed silence. "No one will ever be as close to be as Hikaru was. No one else can ever be my real brother. I can have close friends, but I'll never get another brother." He winced, tears flowing down his face. "And I wish I'd done something better with the minutes that I had with him." He whispered softly, his body trembling as he stood, silent for a moment. "I love my brother." He mumbled unsteadily as he brushed his bangs, wet with perspiration and tears, out of his eyes so he gazed, sleepless and quiet. The entire host club was out on the floor, arms wrapped around him quietly, in a huge group hug as they silently ushered him off, though making sure he wanted to say nothing else.

He was sobbing into Haruhi's shoulder.

"It's alright, Kaoru. Everything's going to be alright." She said quietly, unsure of what else to tell him. She knew he didn't believe her. Hell, she didn't believe it herself.

**Boy, it's cold outside. It snowed, actually. Wish I had some nice hot reviews?**

**XDDDD**

**Also, survey: My friend claims that every single one of you is too busy crying tears of blood to review. True/untrue? Haha(:**

**-Rem**


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning, the burial in this chapter is, indeed, Christian, because that's what I'm most familiar with, and I think what most people are familiar with reading this. If you're offended for some reason, you can probably go ahead and skip this chapter. (:**

**-Rem**

Haruhi had heard from her father and uncle and the other people at her mother's funeral that the ride in the hearse was cramped and awkward for the pallbearers, though she had never really suspected that it was this bad. God, was the casket heavy. And that was with five other people carrying it. Maybe Hunni didn't count, he was so small. No doubt that Takashi had most of the weight on him. But at least he was strong. This was like trying to lift up an anvil.

She felt a gentle shifting feeling on her side and she looked up, Tamaki's chin was once again resting on the top of her head. She frowned even more, the creases in her forehead deepening. She sighed, shrugging it off and giving him a quick, comforting peck on the cheek, which he accepted by squeezing her gently. "Glad you're here." He murmured. It was pitiful. It saddened her immensely to see this. She gently reached forward and hugged him, her head resting quietly on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat resonating through her head.

She frowned slightly and shrugged, turning her head awkwardly when it stopped on the road of the cemetery, dreading these next few minutes as she gently stepped out first, Tamaki, Hunni, Kyouya, Kaoru, and Mori following. They stepped out uniformly and walked to the back of the car, their expressions cold and emotionless as they heaved out the casket. Each of them taking a handle. Takashi took the back, Hunni took the front. Kyouya and Tamaki grabbed the handles on both the front sides, while Haruhi was across from Kaoru, the chill in his eyes made her shiver even more than the cold metal handle. She found herself struggling to lift it, but only slightly, the other five people were quite enough help and much more than she needed.

Walking in unison, Haruhi, feeling her expression solemn and cold, as if she were completely detached and distant from the situation as she felt her ankle and calf tense in apprehension, stepping up the hill. There was some kind of song in the background, though she couldn't really identify it, it floated through one ear and out the other. Haruhi gently stepped forward, struggling up the gentle slope. It was drizzling slightly outside, a cold breeze stung their faces and mist had settled down upon the dewy grass. She felt a slight pain in her chest as they approached the tarp in which there was a platform over a hole which had already been dug, the rest of the assembly was already there, apparently the procession had moved quickly.

Haruhi felt her stomach drop when the minister approached, his bible in hand, halfway opened to a page. The pallbearers joined the main set as the man, older with a slight beard and slightly overweight, opened his mouth to begin,

"In the midst of life we are in death;

of whom may we seek for succor,

but of thee, O Lord,

who for our sins art justly displeased?

Yet, O Lord God most holy, O Lord most mighty,

O holy and most merciful Savior,

deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death.

Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts;

shut not thy merciful ears to our prayer;

but spare us, Lord most holy, O God most mighty,

O holy and merciful Savior,

thou most worthy Judge eternal.

Suffer us not, at our last hour,

through any pains of death, to fall from thee."

Haruhi's throat got tighter as she restrained her sobs, suddenly burying her face into Tamaki's shoulder, who seemed to be having just as difficult of a time coping as she.

It was then that Kaoru stepped out, his cheeks flushed from his crying, though now he was indifferent. He glanced down quietly at a piece of paper and muttered, so quietly that Haruhi had to strain to hear,

"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,  
Prevent the dog from barking with a a juicy bone,  
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum  
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead  
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,  
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,  
Let the traffic policeman wear black cotton gloves

He was my North, my South, my East and West,  
My working week and my Sunday rest,  
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;  
I though that love would last for ever : I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now : put out ever one;  
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;  
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.  
For nothing now can ever come to any good. "

Sickness arose in her stomach once again. She was going to vomit. Clutching her stomach, Haruhi took a deep, forced breath and looked at Tamaki with a warning flashing in her eyes. He nodded quietly, as if to let her know that she would be able to leave if necessary.

Kaoru's eyes were now filled to the brim with tears and pain, the corner of his mouth twitched as he stepped off, Haruhi felt unrelenting grief in the pit of her stomach.

The minister, still solemn and stoic, began saying quietly as the platform lowered,

"In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our brother Hikaru; and we commit Hikaru's body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless him and keep him, the Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him, the Lord lift up his countenance upon Hikaru and give him peace. Amen. The Lord be with, and with thy spirit, Let us pray."

It was at this point that it was now impossible to stomach. Haruhi dashed out, running to the far edge of the cemetery and ducking behind a try, her stomach convulsing so violently that it was impossible for her not to cry out in pain. The burn of stomach acid lingered in her mouth, on her teeth, on her tongue, as she heard a joint Amen from the group, she realized that someone had been holding her hair up. She glanced up to see Kaoru, and blinked. His expression was cold. "You alright?" He muttered, voice robotic and void of any emotion.

"Y-yeah. I'm f-fine." Haruhi muttered, her teeth chattering. In spite of the gelid air, she had fat, saturated drops of sweat collecting on her skin, beginning to glaciate. She thought that he had stolen a glare at her, and Haruhi blinked nervously as she wiped her lips.

"Then let's go." Kaoru mumbled, turning and walking stiffly back to the group and the grave. Haruhi straightened and stared for a moment, blinking. Kaoru stopped, and without even turning, mumbled, "Aren't you coming?"

Haruhi blinked. "Oh. Uh, yeah." She said quietly, keeping her head down, the light sprinkling of rain had now plastered her hair to the sides of her face, so when she dropped her head, it fell in small wet bunches, streams of water drizzling off of it. Diminutive amounts of it flowed into her eyes, she merely pulled up the hood of her coat and walked forward, up the slope again. A couple of people glanced back, but it didn't matter to her as she returned to her perch on Tamaki's shoulder, sighing into the base of his neck. The group was already breaking apart. She sighed and felt Tamaki's arms wrap around her.

"Sorry that happened." He murmured, his breath warm in her ear.

"You okay?" Haruhi asked softly. By then they were the only ones under the tent.

"I'm fine. You?" Tamaki mumbled through her sopped hair.

"Ditto." Haruhi muttered, hanging her head quietly as she walked in step with Tamaki, his arms not leaving their place around her. She felt her body tremble and she felt her body seize with a silent sob. She didn't even realize until a moment later that Tamaki was sobbing quietly, tears rolling down his face, though he wiped them away quickly.

They stepped back into the car, the rest of the Host Club merely glanced up at Tamaki, sitting there, wallowing in his own heartache. Haruhi sighed, putting her arms around his shoulders and resting her head against his upper arm, feeling darkness set in as exhaustion took over her body and she slipped into unconsciousness.

**Hi, guys! I may not be updating for a while. I won't go into detail, but tomorrow (The 10th**** of January, 2010) I'm going to be checking myself into the hospital for several reasons, you may not hear from me for a while. So please review? (: It'll help me get better sooner, and will REALLY cheer me up.**

**-Rem**

**PS - Sorry for the short chapter!**


	9. Chapter 9

**To my anonymous reviewers/readers - So sorry, due to some reason spam, I've had to disable anonymous reviews. Thanks for all of your reviews so far, and again, my apologies if the last chapter offended anyone or threw anyone for a loop.**

**Thanks!**

**-Rem**

Haruhi frowned as she quietly swung open the door to the music room, her feet tapping quietly against the tile. They echoed loudly, making her almost jumpy, the disquieting nature of such echoes had always brought her a terrifying reminiscence of thunder, one of her most horrified fears. The door creaked closed behind her. She hadn't really been expecting anyone in particular. Come to think of it, she hadn't been expecting anyone at all to be in music room three.

However, there was one person.

Kyouya Ootori.

The young man glanced up, the glare from his glasses near blinding and rendering him emotionless. "Haruhi," He addressed gruffly. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Haruhi countered quietly, seating herself on one of the many cushioned chairs nearby. Kyouya simply glanced back down at his notebook and continued typing some unknown coding. Haruhi shifted uncomfortably. Perhaps he was naturally this way, cold and unresponsive, or perhaps he had been different- she couldn't quite recall.

"I'm simply calculating some last minute finances." He mumbled halfheartedly. That couldn't have been all he was doing.

"I just came in to check and see if anyone was here." Haruhi muttered, staring intently at her shoes, polished and nearly reflective.

"Ah. Quite understandable." Kyouya muttered, sighing and closing the computer promptly.

"Ah- Kyouya, are you, uh, are you heading home so soon?" Haruhi spat out, a bad taste developing in her mouth.

"Err, yes. Would you like to come?" He questioned oddly, unsmiling, though tilting his head in the midst of his intrigue. She could see him blink as he slid his computer into what looked like a laptop case, brand new, made of some sort of expensive, fine leather, the buckles and zippers were… gold?

_Damn rich bastards._

She shook her head to dissipate the thought. As she watched Kyouya halfwittedly zip up the zipper that would further encase the computer inside, protecting it from whatever bumps they would have to hit.

Haruhi blinked in surprise, realizing quickly that she had spaced out. "Oh, uhm."

He was standing there idly, waiting for her answer.

"Uh, why not!" Haruhi answered quickly, tripping over her own tongue in an attempt to get the words out.

Kyouya blinked, frowning. He sighed and slung the briefcase over his shoulder so that it rested on his back. "Come on, then." He mumbled, his eyes low and his dark bangs covering his glasses.

Haruhi blinked. "A-alright…" She nodded affirmatively. She followed him, light on her feet, her steps almost bouncy with anxiety. Why was she so anxious, actually? It made her wonder…

She swiped her sweaty palms on her thighs, covered in the soft black fabric dress pants as she stepped rigidly forward, following Kyouya out the door and to his limousine.

She had never been 100% comfortable in a limo. She shifted uneasily in the soft black leather, glancing back at Kyouya uncomfortably as he waved nonchalantly to the driver, sighing. "Would you like some water?" He asked curiously. "Anything to drink?" He raised an eyebrow, and Haruhi's face went numb.

"Uh-uh yes… Please!" She mumbled, shifting in her seat. Why had been been like this all day?

She shifted again as Kyouya exchanged a curious glance toward her, his slate eyes oddly knowing.

"This may sound redundant," He began crisply, promptly pursing his lips. "But is something wrong?" And like wilted lettuce, it his words began sharp and contrasted but soon faded into a muddled mess of words, seeming to run into each other. He paused, seeming embarrassed that his voice had cracked so abruptly and he'd proceeded to finish so quickly.

Haruhi blinked in surprise. "Err." She shifted again, her arms taut by her sides, as though suspended by a rubber band around her torso. The silence went on, although the young businessman didn't break eye contact.

He unsteadily handed her a plastic cup filled with ice and water, crystal clear. The cup was slim at the bottom and became wider as you went further up the brim, similar to the cups on airlines when you order a soft drink, and a napkin was on the side of it. Haruhi grunted, almost snatching it from him and taking several quick audible gulps of water, her throat and mouth inexplicably dry.

Under his relentless, almost scrutinizing gaze, Haruhi squirmed, the room suddenly feel hot. Finally, the youngest Ootori son finally shrugged and leaned back, spread-eagle, on the leather seat, smirking ever-so-slightly to one side of his mouth and adjusting his glasses so that the glare once again depicted him blank and unemotional.

"So, Haruhi." He almost seemed to laugh at how uncomfortable she was.

Perhaps this was all in her head. She shook her head to try to clear this near-hallucination, pouting her lip slightly as she shivered, setting down the cup.

"How have you been since… the incident?" Kyouya asked timidly, suddenly seeming innocent, calm, and, almost, kind. She could now clearly make out his orbs, which were almost… warm? Tender? Bah, who cared?

"Terrible. I can't stop shaking." Haruhi replied bluntly, sighing and scratching her head, slightly unwinding.

Kyouya seemed surprised. "Oh, really?" He asked calmly. "I wouldn't expect you to be that kind of person."

"Kyouya," Haruhi began with a sigh. "I'm not sure if you understand."

"And what is that, Haruhi?" The way he said her name suddenly made her shiver. Was she afraid of him? Why on earth would she ever be afraid of Kyouya?

"Hikaru and I… We nearly had a relationship. He was almost what Tamaki is to me now, with a bit less of a superiority complex." Haruhi was shocked to find her voice so steady, as she was so uncomfortable and unsteady in her own mind.

She watched Kyouya cock an eyebrow. "Really, now? Well, that was obvious. So what was it you were getting at, and why is it you're so jumpy today?"

Haruhi was taken aback that Kyouya could suddenly read her so easily.

"And what tells you that I am?" she asked, her voice beginning to gain volume and just a hint of anger.

"You're pale and sweating bullets. Haruhi, you forget that I am a businessman. I can read people, I almost always know what you, and everyone else, is thinking." He pointed out, looking at her almost as though she were an idiot. Pondering, now, he had rested his chin in his cupped hands, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward, inches from her face. "Hmph." He shrugged and leaned back again. He was acting so odd today.

She frowned and glanced over to lean out the window, her forehead leaning against the cool glass. She suddenly wished that she hadn't come with Kyouya.

The atmosphere within the car had become frigid. Had the driver turned on the AC? She promptly crossed her arms across her chest and frowned, feeling every pulsation created by her heart that pushed more blood throughout her body explode in every part of her. Her feet, her stomach, her neck, her arms, her hands. She focused on the grey, smooth carpet fibers on the floor that her feet rested on, silent and solitary. She almost wished she was like her feet right now.

Silent, quiet, almost unnoticeable.

Still feeling Kyouya's dissective gaze sweeping over her, burning into her and seeing into her soul, every thought she was having. She glanced over at him and shivered again. "Uh, is it cold in here?" Haruhi mumbled, pulling the lavender blazer closer to her skin.

"Not really." Kyouya muttered. It could have been her imagination, but Haruhi could have sworn that he was hissing his words.

She avoided his piercing gaze as they spoke, vigorously biting her lip and tongue in order to keep from saying something rash. When they passed by her house, Kyouya stared and asked them to stop, flourishing calmly and warmly. "Would you like to get off here?"

"Uhm, yes." Haruhi mumbled quietly. Swiftly, she opened the door and tumbled out with her briefcase.

She hobbled up the stairs, only then realizing she'd said nothing to Kyouya, even as the jet black town car pulled away, she shivered, feeling his icy stare boring into her as they passed.

Had he changed somehow, as well? That much? He'd gone from being a warm and inviting person to a cold, seemingly… malicious person.

She shuddered quietly, as though she had just swallowed something horrible-tasting. She swallowed before quickly heading up the stairs, eager to lay down in front of the TV while her dad was off shopping or something.

To her surprise, upon walking in, Ranka was sitting calmly with Tamaki in front of the door. Ranka turned and smiled. "Oh, Haruhi, come in, I was just having tea with… your friend here." He smiled.

"I should probably get going, sir." Tamaki shot Ranka a brief smile. The two had developed an interesting relationship, especially considering their original meeting conditions.

Haruhi frowned slightly, shivering again when Tamaki came over and kissed her briefly, hugging her. "How have you been?" He murmured casually.

Haruhi mumbled quietly, "Fine." and pushed him away slightly. She wasn't in the mood for this right now. Tamaki looked surprised, his eyebrows shot up. "You alright, princess?"

She was tired of asking if she was alright, day in, day out.

Ugh!

"Just… Just leave me be right now." Haruhi mumbled, brushing past her father, stomping into her room, and slamming the door.

**Special thanks to imeshness09 for reading over RateMyDrawings. XDD**

**-Rem**


	10. Chapter 10

**YAY! It's our tenth chapter! Upon repeatedly listening to the Ouran High School Host Club opening, I finally got the incentive to actually write something. And siiigh, this is the chapter where the TamaHaru starts falling apart. ;~; I love TamaHaru, too… /sob/**

**Anyway, as a celebration for the tenth chapter, I put up a quote! WHEEEE!**

**Also, warning, there's some profanity in this chapter.**

"_If ever your will starts crashing down  
__Whenever your will starts crashing down  
__If ever your will starts crashing down  
__That's when you'll find me_

_Lost 'till you're found  
__S__wim 'till you drown  
__Know that we all fall down  
__Love 'till you hate  
__Jump 'til you break  
__Know that we all fall down"_

_- "All Fall Down", OneRepublic_

"Haruhi…? Sweetie? Let Daddy come in."

"Go away, Dad. I don't want to talk." The tenseness at the base of Haruhi's throat grew tight and solid, and she felt as though the inside of her nasal cavity was slowly expanding, it stung slightly as she felt her eyes tear up.

"Come on, dear." Ranka mumbled timidly through the door."N-no!" Haruhi wailed suddenly, her face buried in her pillow. "G-go away, Dad!"

"…Haruhi…"

"GO AWAY!" Haruhi screeched, immediately feeling the repercussions on her vocal chords as tears streamed down her face, splashing onto the pillow clutched tightly to her chest.

She heard a loud sigh and then what sounded like a quiet mumble and feet dragging as he moved away from the door, "… I'll go make some tea…"

After several minutes of hearing and being aware of nothing but her own sobs and the roughness of the fabric of the pillow against her face, Haruhi glanced up, her chest vibrating as she exhaled and held back her own tears, unsteadily reaching a foot off the bed and taking a couple of tentative steps forward. She unlocked her door and pressed her ear to it quietly, listening for her father, but there was no sound.

As inconspicuously as possible for the teenager, Haruhi pressed down on the handle and felt the thin fabric of her socks wear down slightly when she stepped onto the seemingly frigid tiles, stepping forward slowly and careful not to slide as she peeped around the corner. "D-dad?" She murmured softly. No doubt that her eyes were bloodshot and swollen.

She spotted Ranka, seated mutely on the couch, his legs folded underneath him as he held a cup of tea that was trembling even more than his hand was.

He looked over his shoulder after stared at Haruhi after a moment, and his eyes went wide.

Haruhi slid further into view, edging into the living room. "I, uh, sorry, Dad. I… Hikaru.. And… I… Tamaki has… I… Kyouya was…"

She felt atrocious. Why the hell was she a bitch to everyone? She'd been such an idiot to Hikaru. She hoped he wasn't in heaven and that's all he remembered. Whatever. She was going to Hell anyway.

"I'm such a BITCH!" Haruhi wailed suddenly, flinging her torso and head into her father's lap. "I'm sorry, dad." She mumbled tearfully. "I miss him so much right now." She said, her voice unsteady and strained as she held back tears. "All Tamaki's ever done for me is be… great. He's only ever been the prince charming I've ever wanted, and I've never been able to fucking appreciate it!" Haruhi howled, her entire body shaking as Ranka kissed the top of her head. "Shh." He murmured.

"And all you've- All you- All you've ever done is been a great dad and all I can do is yell at you, too!" Haruhi wailed, tears dripping from her face to the couch. "I told Hikaru he was an idiot! That's the last goddamn thing I said to the goddamn rich bastard!" She shrieked, sitting up.

"He's probably laughing at me right now! These goddamn rich bastards! I should have never met any of them!" Haruhi screamed, Ranka curling her closer to him."I hate them all…" She whimpered.

* * *

The cashier eyed him awkwardly as he scanned the bottle.

Kyouya narrowed his eyes at the man.

"May I see your ID, sir?""I'm the oldest Ootori son, do you not know who I am?" Kyouya growled, snatching the bottle of vodka, concealed in a brown paper bag. "I'm well over twenty-one." He hissed out his lie as he took a gargantuan swig of it, right in front of the guy. It stung. He felt his eyes begin to water.

The older guy, a messy mop of curly brown hair on him, seemed shocked. "Oh, my apologies, Ootori-sama."

"I thought so. You're just like that dumbass bitch friend of mine." Kyouya jammed a finger in the fat man's chest, and the man took a tentative step backwards. "Haruhi Fujioka." He hissed out. "I used to love that bitch. Now she just hates me. It's like she's afraid of me, y'know? You're just as stupid as her."

Up until that point, Kyouya had been taking quick, small, pissed off steps toward the man. "It really pisses me off. The goddamn poor peasant commoners! It's people like you," Kyouya spat. "That piss me off!"He watched a drop of sweat roll down the man's forehead."Heh." Kyouya chuckled, stepping back, resting the outward facing side of his wrist on his hip and taking another swig of vodka, this drink was much less painful than the first.

"Si- O-Ootori-sama, I think you've had a little much to drink."

"Pft, me? Nahhhh." Kyouya growled, narrowing his eyes and staring at the man, walking out the door with the bottle, still covered in the paper bag, to his lips and taking a satisfying gulp as he stumbled out of the automatic doors, the frigid wind stinging his face as he swaggered toward the limo, swinging into the back, and, with his head spinning, he mumbled, words slurred, "Drive."

"Kyouya-sa-"

"I said DRIVE, you DUMBASS! DRIVE!" Kyouya hissed in the driver's ear, who slammed his foot on the gas as Kyouya leaned back into the dark leather seat, sinking into the soft bliss even further as the lines blurred in front of him.

_It'd be a nice time to lay down right now_. He stretched himself out on the seat, yawning abruptly and settling into a darkness even blacker than the night itself.

* * *

_Bus burn pus blust bust bias biased bland blazer blaze blace lace blaze bland blace blac… black!_

_Black_

_Rant ranka rim rent wrong romp rom… room!_

_Black room._

_This. Is. A. black. room._

_It. Is. dark._

_Where. Am. I?_

_Words formed slowly in his mind, the string of words, like vague impressions on the memory, carbon copies, and trying to make out what they said, but it took a lot of guesses. But there was always more work to do. When he had a word, that was only part of a thought. _

_It was like trying to move through a thick, jell-o-like substance with some kind of odd force on his body, like it was slowly swirling around him in a pudding tornado that he was in the eye of._

_Then he heard something. What did he hear?_

_What was hearing? There was something different about the room… What was he thinking of?_

_For some reason, it was like he couldn't control his thoughts any more._

_Like someone else was saying something. But it sounded… distant. He couldn't make it out._

_But then something else changed. It was like someone else was thinking a really long, constant, loud noise…_

_What was it? Why would he ever think such a thing?_

_Where was he again?_

_The last thing he heard was what he seemed to automatically identify as a gagging noise and then some kind of yelling outside._

_Then it kind of faded away, and all he really cared about was seeping into this blissful thing that had taken control of him, falling into the thought, that constant thought, the loud thought, and everything else kind of faded away… He got a sudden image of pink flower petals floating in a breeze, cherry blossoms… How nice…_

_Maybe… He should be…. Like those flower petals… And lose himself… In that thought… The long… one… that just kept floating on… And he could bounce and move with it… So he could give up… and disappear… into… that long… peaceful… sleepy…..quiet… rest… bliss… and he…. Could… be… _

_Like…_

_Petals…_

_In…_

_The…_

…_.wind._

**Okay, now I'm REALLY TEMPTED to change the title to "Like Petals in the Wind" and I really wanna make a new fan fiction and name it "The Scarlet Kingsnake" for some reason. TT_TT**

**So should I change the title to "Like Petals in the Wind" or keep it "Strawberry Blonde"? Also, I'll be starting a new Invader Zim fic soon…**

**=D**

**-Rem**


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